Element Amenities

A weird, evolving website inspired by addiction and recovery. 

Processing a lot over the past few weeks has made me realize, I have some pretty dark places. NOT hiding from it either. I have so many funny characters cheering for me in my mind.

Ok, here is the story where I am going to live up to my self labeled name – dry cat lady, Jackie has been bugging me to write this for a while.

I have two cats, one is a 10-year-old small but mighty, blue point designer Siamese.
The other is a massive, white rescue from the pound in Ontario. Yes, my cats are the one thing consistently in my life. They bring me joy, first of all, they are actually hilarious, and second, they are a good pet for people who work a lot. Which I used to always.

I call my house Cat Castle because of these two, they rule me and are a tough team to beat. Especially when they team up. Bae Nut is devious and Mr.P is the king of my cat castle. I am the caretaker.

It’s a constant battle of wills between the castle caretaker, and the spoiled royal brats. Their main objective at the Castle is to trick the caretaker (and anyone who enters), so they can fly out an open door to freedom.
The royal brats love escaping and have escaped as a team, and solo. The caretaker is convinced they plot and scheme, after all, those brats can get over any fence the caretaker has ever built for them… She even had to bring expert help from maintenance to add scare tactics. Big long white danglers and ominous dark black bars. Escaping Cat Castle is difficult and quite dangerous.
Mr.P has his own poop “moat” on the inside of the gate, which he works on morning, noon and night. There he stands guard until the rest of the castle is up and about. He is very good at keeping away night creatures that lurk on the outskirts of the Castle at dawn, waiting for their chance to steal his heavily guarded magic fountain. You see, Mr. P has one thing that he must protect at all costs, his magic fountain. It brings soaring treats of delicious fowl, of all colors and sizes. A stalk, a chase, and a kill is the only way his kingdom can rest. Bae watches the entertainment very closely from whichever perch suits her fancy, so she can get all the information she will need for her world domination. P faces terrifying obstacles, the dreaded green water bottle, and the booby-trapped gate. The caretaker wields the bottle with the precision of “le porteur de lepee” and the fence is a love-hate, so tempting but also dangerous. Long ghost-like fingers, sway and howl in the wind, and the spikes, they have jagged edges and are hard to navigate. he has encountered them before and was rescued by the caretaker, luckily, as he may have missed eleven-zies! He made another daring dash for it the other night, and those damn spikes almost got him again, and he had to return with just his foot bottom slit. Poor Mr.P.